


Mistletoe

by angelhoney



Series: Merthur One Shots [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas Party, Fluff, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mistletoe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-25 04:41:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21630313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelhoney/pseuds/angelhoney
Summary: Gwen hosts a holiday party, and Merlin and Arthur find themselves under some mistletoe. How unpredictable.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: Merthur One Shots [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1559026
Comments: 15
Kudos: 259





	Mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

> Some cute holiday Merthur fluff to start your December off right! I can't get enough of cute holiday stories, so expect more fluffy Christmas stuff this month :)

A sharp wind cut across Merlin’s cheeks, and he pulled his scarf up a little higher on his face. He tried to walk a little faster, but his boots immediately started skidding across a patch of ice, and he had to flail his arms in order to stay upright. Not for the first time, he cursed inwardly that there were no cabs available. Of course, he knew logically that the roads were too slick for cars to drive safely, but walking the kilometer-and-a-half to Gwen’s flat was torture. He was clumsy enough on an average day, and he was positive he’d end up on his arse with a twisted ankle or worse.

It took a ridiculously long time, but finally Merlin arrived at Gwen’s building. He pressed the buzzer, and he was glad it made a loud noise, because his finger was so numb that he wouldn’t have been able to tell if he’d actually pushed the button otherwise.

After a half minute, the big glass door opened, and Gwen poked her head out. She was wearing a pair of reindeer antlers that jangled comically.

“Merlin! Took you long enough,” she said with a big smile, waving her hand quickly to usher him inside. Merlin rolled his eyes.

He shuffled toward the concrete steps of the building, but before he even made it one step up, the toe of his boot caught on a bump in the icy pavement, causing his other boot to slip on the ice, and he promptly fell backwards onto his arse.

“Oh, God _damn_ it!” Merlin moaned. Gwen came running out and gracefully jogged down the steps.

“Oh dear, are you hurt?” Gwen fretted, grasping Merlin’s hand.

“No, I’m fine,” Merlin grumbled, pulling himself up with Gwen’s help. “Just my dignity.”

He spoke too soon, because the moment he put weight on his foot, he hissed sharply in pain. Gwen tightened her grip on him.

“Let’s get you inside, and we can put some ice on your ankle,” she said. Merlin laughed at the irony. They hobbled up the steps together, Merlin leaning heavily on Gwen.

“I knew this would happen,” he informed Gwen as they went inside. The heat of the lobby was heaven against Merlin’s skin. “I knew I’d fuck up my ankle on the ice, and I _knew_ I’d end up on my arse. I must be psychic.” Gwen just laughed.

“Or, you’re the clumsiest person to walk the earth. I can’t even count the number of times you’ve fallen over this winter alone,” she said. Merlin clapped his free hand over his chest in mock hurt.

They walked slowly to the elevator, and Gwen pushed the button for her flat. Merlin leaned against the wall of the elevator and tested his ankle. It throbbed with a sharp pain each time he put pressure on it.

“Definitely twisted,” Merlin said sadly. “I’ve had enough of them to know.”

“Well, it’s nothing some ice and a cup of my eggnog won’t fix,” said Gwen with a smile.

“You know me too well,” said Merlin. “Hope I don’t bring down the party with my sad, sad ankle.”

“There’s hardly ten people here, so the party is already pretty _down_ ,” she said, rolling her eyes. “It’s really just me and Lance, Elyan, Gwaine and Percy, Morgana and Leon, and Arthur and Mithian.”

Merlin felt a tiny pang in his chest at the last names. He’d grown used to knowing his feelings for Arthur were unrequited, but it still hurt each time Arthur brought around a new girl. Arthur seemed to go through girls like passing fads, and Merlin tried to remember that even if Arthur ever did have feelings for Merlin, they’d be gone within the week.

“Will might swing by later,” Gwen continued, snapping Merlin back to the present. “And Mordred and Kara said they would try and come around after work.”

The elevator pinged, and the doors slid open to Gwen’s floor. Gwen linked her arm with Merlin’s as they headed to her door. Merlin could hear muffled Christmas music and low conversation through the door. She pushed the door open, and Merlin was immediately assaulted by a mass of hair that smelled like excessive hair product and gingerbread.

“Oi!” Merlin shouted with a laugh, but Gwaine just laughed and pulled Merlin toward the kitchen. Gwen let out a soft _oh_ but released Merlin’s arm, and Merlin could feel her fretting over his injured foot from behind him. He had to hop a little to keep up with Gwaine, but he made it safely enough to the kitchen. Lance was behind the counter, and he handed Merlin a cup of eggnog, which Merlin accepted gratefully. He took a sip and moaned. There were very few things he liked more than Gwen’s specialty eggnog.

“Why does your hair smell like cookies?” Merlin asked Gwaine as he set his cup down and plucked up a peppermint humbug from a platter. “Did you buy some fancy holiday hair goop?”

“Nah,” said Percival teasingly over Gwaine’s shoulder as he came up to the counter for a handful of pretzels. “Gwen smashed a gingerbread man over his head when she caught him trying to spike her eggnog.”

“Why would you try and spike her eggnog?” Merlin gasped at Gwaine. Gwen notoriously put an obscene amount of rum and brandy in her eggnog. Just a cup or two was enough to render Merlin drunk, and he wasn’t exactly a lightweight anymore.

“A little extra alcohol never hurt anyone!” Gwaine said with a wink, knocking Merlin with his shoulder. Merlin was about to tell him how _wrong_ that statement was, but all that came out was a pained hiss as he stumbled and put too much pressure on his ankle. Gwaine’s eyes widened.

“Uh, you okay?” Gwaine asked. “Push you too hard?”

“Nah,” Merlin said as casually was he could through the jarring pain. “I may have twisted my ankle a smidge on the ice outside.”

“Christ, Merlin!” Gwaine scolded, looking a little embarrassed. “You should have said something.”

“Really, it’s not so bad,” Merlin insisted. “I’ve had worse.”

“Isn’t that the truth,” came an all-too-familiar voice from behind Merlin. He turned on his good foot and came face to face with Arthur. He was wearing an uncharacteristically festive jumper, and there was a round smudge of something red on the tip of his nose.

“Oh, you hush,” Merlin said, waving a hand at Arthur. “God knows half the injuries I’ve sustained were your fault.”

Arthur looked like he was going to protest for a moment, but realized that it was, in fact, the truth. From forcing Merlin to play footie with him, to Arthur practicing martial arts from his lessons on Merlin, to the one time Arthur cuffed Merlin over the head a little too hard and Merlin fell face first onto the pavement and bruised his nose, Merlin had a tendency to get hurt around Arthur. Merlin knew that he could blame Arthur for his injuries until he was blue in the face, but the real reason he keeps getting hurt is because Arthur’s stupidly beautiful face was obnoxiously distracting. How could Merlin pay attention to the football flying toward him when Arthur was standing there on the pitch, looking like a sweaty fucking Greek god? What, is he just _not_ supposed to look?

Arthur opened the freezer and dumped a handful of ice cubes from the tray into a dish towel and wrapped it up. He moved toward the bathroom down the hall, before stopping and turning his head expectantly at Merlin.

“Well, are you coming, or what?” He asked impatiently. Merlin just looked at him blankly. “Let’s get you fixed up.” He kept moving down the hall, but he wasn’t far enough away that Merlin didn’t catch the murmured “Done this enough times, I’m practically an expert.”

“Hey!” Merlin protested, hop-hobbling after Arthur. “You’ve helped me with a sprained ankle _once_! And it was your fault it got sprained in the first place!”

Arthur just waved him off. Merlin rolled his eyes and followed him to the bathroom.

“Really, I’m okay,” Merlin insisted, tugging the makeshift ice pack from Arthur’s hand. Arthur let it go without struggle, which Merlin wasn’t expecting. Arthur was nothing if not stubborn. He set the ice on the sink and opened Gwen’s medicine cabinet and rummaged around, looking for her trusty first aid kit containing the elastic bandages she had stockpiled especially for Merlin’s predictable clumsiness.

“You probably shouldn’t be snooping, _Mer_ lin,” said Arthur, and Merlin looked up. He hadn’t realized Arthur was still there. He’d figured he would’ve rejoined the party by now, but there he was, leaning on the doorjamb and watching Merlin.

“‘M not _snooping_ , I’m _looking_ ,” said Merlin, pulling out a box of mismatched bandages and a thin roll of medical tape. He shuffled through it, but no luck. “Besides, isn’t _snooping_ when you’re trying to find something secret? What in the world would Gwen even have to hide?”

“Mm,” said Arthur noncommittally, which Merlin took as a win. He gave up on the medicine cabinet and opened the doors for under the sink. He stuck his head under the sink and pushed Gwen’s toiletries around. He realized belatedly that he was probably being rude by messing up Gwen’s bathroom, but his ankle was starting to throb painfully and he couldn’t focus on being polite.

Something freezing hit the back of Merlin’s neck, and he nearly whacked his head on the sink as he swatted his neck.

“You should’ve iced your ankle sooner,” said Arthur, amused. Merlin realized the freezing thing was drops of the melting ice on the sink. Another drop fell on Merlin’s hand. “Gwen’s place is like a sauna. I’m surprised the ice didn’t melt quicker, honestly.”

“You are not being helpful,” moaned Merlin. All he wanted was to enjoy a nice holiday party and watch as Arthur got beautifully tipsy. A buzzed Arthur always has pink cheeks and a loose, relaxed smile. Instead he was sitting on Gwen’s bathroom floor with a sprained ankle and icy water dripping onto him.

Arthur crouched down next to Merlin and ruffled his hair affectionately. Merlin’s heart fluttered.

“You look so sad; it’s not even fun to tease you,” said Arthur. Merlin rolled his eyes. “I’ll go get more ice. You just try and find… whatever you were looking for.” He left before Merlin could say anything back.

Merlin turned back to the sink and pushed a drawer filled with miniature hotel soaps aside, revealing the little white box Gwen kept the elastic bandages in. He sighed in relief and pulled the box out.

Arthur reappeared with more ice wrapped in a cloth. He crouched back down and gently set the ice on Merlin’s ankle. Merlin hissed at the contact, but the cold felt good.

After a minute, Merlin realized Arthur was still holding the ice to his ankle. He looked up and saw Arthur watching him softly.

“What?” Merlin asked, his heart stuttering a beat.

“What? Nothing,” said Arthur, blinking and looking away. His cheeks turned pink, and Merlin felt warmth bloom inside him. Maybe it wasn’t tipsy-Arthur, but Arthur with pink cheeks was always a beautiful sight.

Arthur stood up suddenly, and Merlin looked away. He wondered if he embarrassed Arthur, or made him uncomfortable, and he felt the warmth in his chest ebb away. He removed the ice from his ankle and pulled a roll of bandages from the kit, unrolling a few feet of it to wrap around his ankle. He concentrated on wrapping the elastic carefully around his ankle, and pointedly did not look at Arthur, who was still lingering in the doorframe.

Finally, his ankle was secured with tape, and Merlin grabbed the edge of the sink to heft himself up. He was surprised to feel Arthur take his hand to help him up. Merlin looked up at Arthur finally, and saw he still was rather pink in the face.

“Are you okay?” Merlin asked cautiously.

“Yeah. Um,” Arthur said, uncharacteristically flustered. He glanced up. “It’s just. Uh. Mistletoe.” Merlin looked up and saw a branch of mistletoe hanging in the doorway.

“Oh,” said Merlin. His stomach leapt into his chest. “Don’t worry,” he tried to joke. “You don’t have to kiss me, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Arthur furrowed his brow.

“Do you not want to kiss me?” Arthur asked flat out, and Merlin choked slightly. “Because it’s bad luck to refuse a kiss under mistletoe, you know.”

“Oh, well, if it’s bad luck,” Merlin somehow managed to say, his voice cracking at the end. Arthur was still holding Merlin’s hand, and it was so warm on Merlin’s skin. His heart was thumping like an entire drum set was playing a concert in his chest.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” said Arthur, looking into Merlin’s eyes. He was so direct and sure of himself, it made Merlin go a little weak in the knees. Before Merlin could say anything, Arthur pressed his lips against Merlin’s. Arthur was warm and soft and _Arthur_ , and Merlin wanted more than anything to melt against Arthur completely, but the tiny, tiny rational part of his brain told him not to. If Arthur genuinely was only kissing him due to _tradition_ , Merlin didn’t want to humiliate himself by revealing just how much he wanted to kiss Arthur. So, with every single ounce of restraint he had, Merlin kissed Arthur as platonically as he could.

But _God_ did he want to taste Arthur’s mouth. He wanted it more that he wanted oxygen. He wanted it more than he wanted Gwen’s eggnog.

Arthur drew back, and Merlin opened his eyes to see Arthur smiling softly like he was before. He brought his free hand up and rubbed the tip of Merlin’s nose.

“Sorry, some of my festive Rudolph nose got on you,” Arthur chuckled.

“I was surprised to see you looking so festive this year,” said Merlin, and he mentally patted himself on the back for having an almost perfectly steady voice for having just kissed Arthur. “You’re not one for celebrating the holidays so… outwardly.”

“Mm,” Arthur agreed. “I know. But Mithian convinced me to step outside my comfort zone this year.”

Merlin’s heart cracked. He forgot that Arthur came to this party with a date. He forced a smile onto his face.

“I’m surprised you didn’t want to kiss _her_ under the mistletoe instead,” Merlin joked half-heartedly. He glanced back up at the mistletoe, and then looked again. The tape holding the branch up was peeling away from the ceiling, and it didn’t look like Scotch tape or duct tape. In fact, it looked like…

Merlin looked on the sink and saw that the medical tape he’d pulled out earlier was unraveled slightly and the edge was torn instead of cut neatly with scissors. His mind was going so fast he almost didn’t hear Arthur say “She’s not the one I wanted to kiss tonight.”

Merlin snapped his eyes back to Arthur, and saw he looked embarrassed. Merlin felt the warmth start to seep back into his heart.

“You know,” said Merlin, his voice trembling a tiny bit. “the bathroom door is a rather strange place for _Gwen_ to hang mistletoe up.” Arthur blushed deeper, and Merlin felt himself smile.

“You did this on purpose?” Arthur ducked his head and nodded. “You wanted to kiss… me?”

“Well, yeah,” said Arthur, rubbing the back of his neck. “Figured that was obvious.”

“I — But, didn’t you come here with Mithian?” Merlin asked. Arthur looked confused, and then blinked in understanding.

“Oh, yeah, I did, but not as a date,” said Arthur. “Truthfully, I think she has a thing for Gwaine.”

Merlin felt like his cheeks were going to split from how hard he was smiling.

“Can I kiss you again?” Merlin asked, feeling more confident than he’d ever felt before. Arthur didn’t bother answering. He cupped Merlin’s face and pulled him into a kiss far less platonic than the first. Arthur tasted like eggnog and peppermint and _Arthur_ he tasted like _Arthur_ and oh _God_ how Merlin wanted this. He wound his hand behind Arthur’s neck and tangled his fingers into Arthur’s soft hair, and he felt the vibrations of Arthur’s soft moan all the way down his body.

They broke apart, breathing heavily. Arthur pressed their foreheads together; their noses bumping each other’s gently. Merlin caressed Arthur’s face, and Arthur leaned into the touch.

“I always thought you were out of my league, you know,” said Arthur softly. Merlin huffed out a surprised laugh.

“ _What_? Are you kidding?” Merlin asked in disbelief.

“Dead serious,” said Arthur, rubbing small circles on Merlin’s cheek with his thumb. “S’why I go out with all those girls. Trying to distract myself from you.”

“And here I was thinking you were just a bit of a slag,” said Merlin, and Arthur shoved his shoulder. “But seriously, I never thought I even had a chance,” Merlin continued. “For one, I thought you were straight as an arrow, what with all the girls.”

“Bi,” Arthur corrected. “Girls are just… easier, I guess? Less guessing about whether or not they’re interested.”

“I also kind of figured that even if by some chance you _were_ interested in me, you’d lose interest in me just as fast. Like with all the girls, I guess.”

“I could never lose interest in you,” said Arthur honestly, and Merlin couldn’t help but kiss him again. He could feel Arthur smile against the kiss, and Merlin could confidently say that was one of the best feelings in the world.

“D’you maybe want to go get a coffee or something?” Arthur asked. Merlin laughed.

“Right now? In the middle of the party?”

“We can do whatever you want,” said Arthur. “I just don’t particularly feel like letting you go quite yet.”

“How about a nice cup of eggnog and a gingerbread man for now, and a coffee later?” Merlin said. “I’m sure we’ll need it after we inevitably get wasted on Gwen’s eggnog.”

“Sounds perfect,” said Arthur with an easy smile. “Shall we?”

“Hang on,” said Merlin. He stood up on his tip-toes and pulled the little branch of mistletoe from the ceiling. “There’s no way I’m _not_ taking this with me.”

“Sentimental, much?” Arthur teased as they headed back to the party.

“This mistletoe is important!” Merlin insisted. “It brought us together. That makes it the most special mistletoe in the world.”

They rejoined the party, and if anyone noticed Arthur and Merlin holding hands, or the little branch of mistletoe poking out of Merlin’s pocket (Which they did. Everyone noticed.), they didn’t say a word.


End file.
